No One Would Riot For Less
by phollie
Summary: Aizawa's reasons for staying on this case are far different from anyone else's. They come in the form of angel eyes and soft footsteps at his door.


**MY GOD I CAN'T STOP WRITING TASKFORCE FICS. THEY'RE COMING OUT THE HOOPLAH.**

…**that being said, I give you yet another Aizawa fic. I just really love writing for this guy. And Matsuda. And hopefully Ide and Mogi coming up very soon in my new fic in the works. -jumps up and down-**

**Because, really, I think we all know this feeling. Okay, maybe not in the same situation, but definitely the **_**feeling.**_** And here's where I shut up. **

**I don't own Death Note.**

**-**

_no one would riot for less._

-

It's a Sunday morning, and Aizawa feels sick. Not sick in the way that used to wrack his mornings back in college, doubled over with hangovers after long nights with half-strangers, and not with hives or seasonal flu or even a headache.

No, Sunday morning brings about the sickness of heavy limbs and stubble, of conflicting thoughts of either getting out of bed or turning back to Eriko and, just for a moment or two, being a husband instead of a police officer. He could roll back over and collect his wife's white, tiny body into his arms, against his chest so that she won't complain about his unshaved face. He could apologize for missing Yumi's birthday because Ryuzaki was too hellbent to let them leave headquarters for the night. He could kiss the top of Eriko's hair and touch the feminine slope of her shoulder and just be Shuichi Aizawa, the husband and father and man. He could make things okay, maybe not forever, but for as long as it matters.

This is the sickness of dread. This is the sickness of regret and frustration and that floundering feeling that he isn't contributing nearly as much to this rat chase as he thinks he is. Matsuda, Mogi, the chief, Aizawa himself, they all come from the same place, but Ryuzaki comes from a private world all his own. And what else are they doing but following his lead? For the past few months, Aizawa has been bitterly reminded that they are like first graders encircling the smartest, most reclused kid in the class, watching as he solves a math problem on paper as he sorely explains it to them with the slightest touch of impatience.

They had once been expected to weed through this giant homework assignment on their own accord without L, without Ryuzaki, and they had stared at it and scratched their heads and thought, _Well, then._ Many officers had quit. Ide had been one of them. The chief had refused to abandon this investigation for anything, Matsuda hadn't had anything better to risk than his life, and Mogi, always the stone wall, had taken on the dirty work with a passive, wordless front. And Aizawa…

There are light, padding footsteps that stop at the open door of the bedroom. Aizawa sits up slightly and sees Yumi, all angel eyes and soft child smiles, hopping from one foot to the other excitedly. The weight from Aizawa's bones and brain and heart lift high up from where he rests and he opens up his arms to her. Yumi's smile broadens, brightens all that was dark and ill within her father's body as she scurries to the bed in quick little steps before hopping in between her parents. She is cradled in Aizawa's arms like a small, lively treasure; she happily mumbles a "good morning, daddy" and Eriko stirs next to them before dozing back off.

All is soft. The sickness is gone as seven o'clock arrives with Yumi laying against Aizawa's chest and morning light blooming over Eriko's sleeping face. Aizawa lets his eyes close, lets this rare moment of peace suspend itself above his head while it can. However close he may be to Kira, he is far away from him now, as far and as miniscule as he could ever be as he hangs onto Yumi and hangs onto silence.

_I don't want to watch her grow up in fear._

Seven o'clock. He will have to return to headquarters in one hour. Return to the war.

_I don't want Kira judging her happiness her entire life._

And he won't let it happen.

Because Aizawa's reasons for staying on this case are far different from anyone else's.

-

**This was meant to be a drabble. Well, so much for that. **

**Feedback is greatly appreciated. **


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